Driving up the twisted roads from Coimbatore train station to Ooty gave me an eerie sense of deja vu – simply because I have done that trip countless times.

As the road climbed into the blue Nilgiri mountains, the air because crisper and cooler, familiar. The smell of eucalyptus hit my nostrils and brought so many memories flooding back.

As we entered Ooty, we drove past the Selborne drive, where I had lived for the last seven of eight years in Ooty. The drive was as messy, dug-up and dusty as ever. It was so, so familiar driving through the town, seeing all the same stores, with all the same shopkeepers. Goats casually walking the streets, jumping walls or sitting under trees. Hoards of tourists filling the pavements. Familiar.

Over the next few days, we continued to go to all our favourite eat-outs, while also doing the typical Ooty attractions – including the toy train, lake, gardens and Doddabetta.

It was pleasant to be in a familiar place. To know where to go, where to eat, how to get places. It was strange being in such a familiar setting after being away eighteen months. Strange seeing the subtle differences and realising that time doesn’t stand still in your absence.

Ooty: pleasant and strange